


Frozen Past, Warm Future

by Letticiae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friendship, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letticiae/pseuds/Letticiae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and Solona Amell go on an emotional journey that will forever change their relationship. Return to Ostagar DLC with a few creative licenses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frozen Past, Warm Future

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caraine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caraine/gifts).



> Written for CMDA's secret santa fic exchange. My gift for the lovely Caraine.

They were traveling from Denerim to Lake Calenhad when Alistair suggested they take a shortcut through Bann Loren's lands. It would save them time, so Solona agreed to it. She was actually a bit surprised to hear Alistair speak up. They hadn’t talked much after what had happened at Redcliffe with Isolde and Connor, and the whole situation with his sister in Denerim hadn’t helped, especially when Solona had refused to give the woman any coin.

Solona liked to think herself as pragmatic. They didn’t have much and every sovereign wasted meant taking up some ordinary Chanter’s Board job to make up for it. And she did not like those. They needed to focus on stopping the Blight; she and Alistair were the only Grey Wardens left in Ferelden and they couldn’t afford to waste either time or resources.

Or at least that had been what the witch of the wilds had said. Duncan... he could’ve made it. Solona still regretted not having returned to Ostagar to search for survivors, but she and Alistair had taken quite a beating from that ogre and had been in no condition to go to a place overrun by darkspawn.  

They had made a full recovery and had gathered a few allies along the way to help with their cause, but too much time had passed already, and there seemed to be no point in going back to Ostagar now.

However, as they were crossing Bann Loren's lands, they ran into Elric Maraigne — a survivor from the battle of Ostagar — and he told them about King Cailan’s belongings and body, forgotten at the old Tevinter fortress. Solona looked at Alistair, who immediately voiced his interest on returning there, and she had to agree with him on this. There really were quite a few darkspawn there that deserved a sword through them.

 

* * *

 

Solona felt a tightening in her chest. Seeing the walls of Ostagar again was bringing up too many memories. Surely Alistair was feeling the same way if the look on his face, of both chagrin and determination, was any indication.

She spared a glance at their companions. The surly Qunari man. The Chantry sister who had a penchant for breaking into giggles and song. The flirty assassin. The grumpy golem. And, the sardonic witch who wouldn’t give Alistair a break.

They were a good group. Useful, reliable. Even fun to be around sometimes. But being back at Ostagar was too emotional for the two Grey Wardens and Solona wasn’t sure if their companions would understand and respect that.

Maybe they did understand, because they stayed behind as she came closer to the fortress entrance with Alistair and her mabari. Still, their mission there felt too personal, and she’d rather not have outsiders tagging along.

Darkspawn presence could already be felt in the area. They were spread out and not in great numbers. Maybe…

“Do you think we could...” Alistair gestured with his head towards the fortress. “Just the two of us?”

It was like he had read her mind and she nodded in agreement. “I’ll tell the others to set camp out here. Let’s pack up some supplies and then we leave.”

By her side, her dog whined, wanting to join them.

“You’re going to have to check with Alistair there, girl,” Solona said, jerking her head towards the warrior. They might have had their disagreements lately, but Alistair was her most important ally in this fight — a successor to Ferelden’s throne and probably the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden — and they needed to be at least on good terms if they wanted to have a good shot at ending the Blight and the Civil War.

Leia barked at him, to which he replied, “Yes, you can come with us. I know this place means something to you, too.”

Happy with his decision, Solona gave him a small smile and they began the preparations to leave.

 

* * *

 

As they entered the fortress, the Wardens were horrified to find King Cailan’s body stripped down to his smalls and propped up on a wooden crucifix. His features were still perfectly recognizable, preserved by the cold.

Alistair laid down his sword and shield, retrieving a dagger from his belt, and rushed to cut the bonds that tied his brother to the crucifix. “We can’t leave him like this.”

Solona swallowed hard, trying to keep her focus despite of the shock of running into such a horrifying tableau. Alistair was right; they needed to take Cailan down and make him a proper funeral pyre, but there was no time for it now. Solona could feel the darkspawn approaching; Leia was already barking at the incoming enemies.

Using a misdirection hex to keep the darkspawn off of Alistair, the mage hoped to buy him some time. She exhausted her mana petrifying the ones that were getting closer to her as Leia fought what looked like a genlock, but when the dog fell to the ground, twitching and howling in pain, Solona knew it was no simple genlock.

“Alistair, emis–” Before she could finish, she felt the area being cleansed of magic and, as the mabari got up, the former templar apprentice finished the darkspawn emissary off with a holy smite.

Solona ran up to her dog, kneeling on the ground to hug her and make sure that she was fine.

That group of enemies was dealt with, but the wardens could feel there were more not too far away. The mage looked up at Alistair; she didn’t want to rush him, but as long as there were darkspawn around, they wouldn’t be able to honor Cailan the way he deserved. “We should...”

“... keep going. I know.”

“After we clear the fortress, we’ll come back.”

Alistair turned around, said a few quiet words to his brother, and then nodded at her in agreement and they pushed forward.

 

* * *

 

By the time they emerged from the Tower of Ishal, night had fallen on Ostagar. They were dirty, starved, and exhausted and decided to set up camp for the rest of the night.

As Alistair rummaged through the supplies they had brought, looking for ingredients to make them dinner, Solona busied herself cleaning up their weapons and setting up their tent. Duncan had taught her how to do that. It had been one of the first things he had taught her after rescuing her from the Circle of Magi.

And, in the three weeks that had followed, as they had traveled from Lake Calenhad to Ostagar, he had done even more for her. He had taught her the basics of swordfighting and hand-to-hand, how to swim, how to hunt and fish, how to skin and gut an animal, how to scout and track.

He had been very disapproving of her relying too much on magic, saying that she had to save her mana for moments of need, and was adamant that she learned how to use other weapons besides her staff.

He had been right. About all of it. Every skill he had taught her had been of use. If she was alive today, it was thanks to him. He had turned her whole world upside down when he’d freed her from her confinement at that awful tower — the place where she had been treated like a menace her whole life; where she had seen her friends be beaten and abused; where the man she had once loved had betrayed her for freedom and another woman; where she had been punished countless times for the smallest infractions.

Her three weeks on the road with the senior warden, learning about and exploring the world outside the thick stone walls of the Circle, had been so intense they had felt like months.

Nonetheless, she wished she had had more time with him.

“You were right,” Alistair said, breaking the eerie silence of the dark night and bringing Solona back from her thoughts.

She gave him an inquisitive look and he came over to sit by her side, bringing a bowl of food for each of them.

“Back when we left Goldanna’s, you told me I needed to look out for myself more than I do. You were right,” he said in response to her unvoiced question. “I’m not letting everyone else make my decisions for me. Not anymore. I’m taking a stand, thinking about myself for a change.”

“It’s about time, I say.” It came out a little harsh, so she smiled at him to assure him that she meant well and he smiled back.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “for getting me here. For... everything.”

With those words, it was like all the tension that had been hanging between them ever since her decision to use blood magic to save Connor, and then the whole crisis with his sister in Denerim, simply dissolved.

“I’m the one who should thank you. Your cooking,” she said with her mouth full, “for once, it’s actually palatable.”

He chuckled and, for the rest of their meal, they sat together, simply enjoying each other's company.

 

* * *

 

Solona woke up in a fairly good mood. Despite the grimness of their quest at Ostagar and how hard the day before had been for them, she had slept soundly the whole night.  

Usually, when they parted from the main camp and traveled in smaller groups, they packed as lightly as possible. Weapons, food, and potions were the items that took precedence, which meant that the whole party had to share a tent if they couldn’t get back to the main camp by dusk. This, however, was the first time it was just the two wardens in said shared tent, and Solona had mused that, plagued by nightmares as they both were, they would end up waking each other up several times during the night with their thrashing.

It hadn’t happened, though. It also helped that, during the night, she had barely felt the presence of darkspawn in the vicinity and Leia, who was a light sleeper like all war hounds, hadn’t once felt the need to call for her mistress.

“So, do you think darkspawn sleep at night, or did we just kill them all?”

It seemed Alistair had had a night as good as hers if his chirpy tone was any indication.

“You’ve been living this life longer than me. What do you think?”

“We killed them all. That is definitely it.”

Well, Grey Wardens can dream, too. It doesn’t have to be all nightmares, Solona thought, smiling at his optimistic sense of humor.

To avoid the cold outside, they got dressed in the tent. Solona helped Alistair don his heavy armor and he helped her with the dozens of buttons on her robes as naturally as if it were something they did every day.

Leia came inside and the mage retrieved the black dye from her pack to redo the warpaint on the dog that had come off when she had cleaned their enemies’ blood from her fur last night. Lowering himself to one knee by their side, Alistair helped her paint the markings on the mabari, who then left the tent with a determined stride, looking ready and eager to ravage some darkspawn.

“Thank you.”

“It is no trouble. I am beginning to warm up to that mangy beast.”

“You’re lucky she’s not here to hear you,” Solona teased him.

“Are you kidding me? I would never say that in front of her. She still scares the hell out of me, you know?” Solona was laughing at his admission as Alistair got up and held out his hand for her. “Ready to go?”

The mage took his hand and was a little surprised at the way it drifted along her arm to stop and rest at her back as he led her out of the tent. He had never touched her without needing to before.

The moment they stepped outside, the cold and desolation of the abandoned fortress hit them like a hard slap to their faces, instantly reminding them of why they were there, of King Cailan and the horrors of the day before. Solona shivered with the sudden shock of reality that broke the spell of their quiet night and domestic morning. The only warmth left in her body was where Alistair’s hand was touching her back. But then, that too was gone, his arm falling to his side, and she instantly missed it.

They quickly pulled up camp, falling into a sober silence as they continued on.

 

* * *

 

It was Leia who found him, digging around a hand in the snow. There was no shortage of detached limbs on the Ostagar grounds, so that particular hand hadn’t caught the wardens’ attention until the mabari had started digging.

“Maker, no,” Solona gasped as soon as she recognized the body, dropping on the snow to help the dog uncover it.

“What are you...” Alistair’s next words died on his lips upon seeing the very familiar pieces of armor being revealed by Solona and Leia’s frantic digging. “By the Maker, it’s... it’s...”

“Duncan,” the mage whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

“We have to… We can’t leave...”

Solona went over to where the warrior was standing. If she weren’t already heartbroken for Duncan, her heart would be breaking for Alistair and how upset he looked and sounded.

“We’ll build him a pyre, see him to the Maker. Together.” She took his hand and he squeezed hers in his as an answer. The gesture was reassuring for both of them and they finished uncovering the body.

Alistair took Duncan’s dagger, careful not to break his fingers that were frozen stiff around the hilt. It was a beautiful blade, custom-made and enchanted.

“You should have it,” Solona said.

“I…” He was again at a loss for words and seemed very moved, causing the mage to think he might not accept it, maybe even think he was not worthy of it, when she knew there was no one who deserved to have that weapon more than him. But then he took a deep breath, recomposing himself. “I will treasure it. Thank you.”

Before she could say anything in response, they felt darkspawn approaching. The rush of blood was weak this time, so Solona expected the incoming enemies to be in small numbers.

“Ogre!” Alistair yelled as a huge rock came flying in their direction.

They threw themselves to the ground and rolled out of the way. Solona got up first — not wearing heavy armor had its advantages — and cast a mass paralysis spell to buy Alistair the few extra seconds he needed to get back on his feet.

The group of enemies was much larger than Solona had anticipated, with skeletons somehow rising from the ground to fight them. Something wasn’t right. She should have felt a wilder rush of blood and that tug in her gut that indicated a stronger darkspawn presence than common genlocks. There was even an ogre there, after all.

Alistair ran towards it with a vengeance, dismantling all the skeletons that got in his way. He ducked as the ogre tried to punch him and sunk his sword into its side. As the monster squirmed, Alistair climbed its back with impressive dexterity and used Duncan’s dagger to slice its neck.

The creature still managed to grab Alistair and yank him off of its back before collapsing to the ground. The warrior was then trapped with the dead ogre partially on top of him. Skeletons, genlocks, and a hurlock were running towards him, so Solona sicked her dog on them as she faced an emissary, for the first time without the help of Alistair’s templar abilities.

She put up an arcane shield to protect herself, which resisted the emissary’s first attacks while giving her a chance to cast offensive spells. The damned creature was enduring, but she had reduced it to defending itself from her.

Leia killed one of the genlocks and engaged the second one when the hurlock fell dead for apparently no reason. Solona figured out the emissary had sacrificed it to heal itself and restore its power, considering how it finally managed to disrupt her arcane shield. She was on the defensive now, and with her mana almost completely drained, she saw no option but to advance towards the emissary and try to physically hit it with her staff.

Alistair must have seen what she was planning and whistled to get Leia’s attention. He slid Duncan’s dagger on the snowy terrain towards the mabari, who took it and ran with it to Solona. She got the blade and told the dog to go back to protect Alistair.

The emissary cast a winter’s grasp spell that the mage was unable to deflect but, gritting her teeth, she powered through the agonizing cold that felt like it was seeping into her bones and attacked it with the dagger. Having to use its staff to defend itself, its spellcasting was finally interrupted and, with the weapons training Duncan had given her, Solona bested the emissary.

The remaining enemies simply fell where they had been standing, and the mage realized she had just fought a necromancer. It was just her luck that those wretched darkspawn were now dabbling in necromancy, too.

Still in pain from the cold and the horrible sensation that she would never be warm again, the mage stumbled towards Alistair, who was dragging himself out from underneath the ogre. Limping, he came to meet her halfway. They hugged and fell to their knees in a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

The only spot where their skin made any contact was on their cheeks, but it was enough for Alistair to notice she was freezing. Sitting down, he pulled her into his lap, enveloping her with his larger frame as he rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up.

“They were dead. That was why we didn’t feel them. That emissary was raising dead darkspawn,” Alistair told her. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It was not your fault. I was distracted. They caught me off guard.”

“It is not your fault either. We’ve been relying too much on the taint and we were both caught by surprise.”

She nodded weakly, still shivering as she reached into her pack and retrieved an elfroot potion for him and a lyrium one for herself.

Feeling slightly better after drinking the potion, Solona conjured a fire to speed up her recovery. Leia also came over and snuggled with them, helping warm up her mistress.

Moments later, the shivering had stopped and her skin was back to a healthy color. “We can keep going now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you.” The mage kissed Alistair on the cheek and felt a little guilty for enjoying how her kiss made him blush.

As she got up to face reality once again, she realized two things. The first was that she wouldn’t mind being in his arms more often. It made her feel safe and comfortable, even with all the armor between then. The second was that, when she was with him, it seemed like nothing else existed but them.

“Do you think we can carry Duncan back to where we found King Cailan? Build their pyres side by side?” he asked her.

“Sure.”

“I’ll just retrieve my sword then.”

“Here.” She passed him Duncan’s dagger. “Don’t forget your dagger.”

“I think you should have it.”

“I… I can’t.”

“He was important to you, too.” He closed her hand around the hilt of the dagger. “Please, keep it.”

She nodded, unable to fight him on this, especially with the way he was asking. And, he was right; she might not have known Duncan as long as Alistair had, but in the short time they had been together, he had become very important to her.

Tucking the dagger into her belt, Solona walked with the warrior over to the dead ogre.

As he pulled his sword out of the creature, he saw a second one still stuck in it. “Maker’s breath! That’s Duncan’s sword. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

One look at the hilt sticking out of the ogre's back and Solona recognized it, too. “Alistair, I think this ogre might’ve–”

“Killed him. Yes. I mean, his body is right there and his sword…”

Solona put a hand on Alistair’s shoulder hoping the gesture would be comforting for him, even if the shoulder guards of his armor were in the way. “I’m glad you killed it.”

“Me, too.”

“You’re taking the sword, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”  

 

* * *

 

Night was falling when they finished building the funeral pyres. The wardens did it all by themselves. Despite their companions being camped nearby, they didn’t go there to ask for help. Solona didn’t use any magic either, and Alistair never asked her to. She thought Duncan would’ve been proud of her if he could see that she was making this with her own hands.

Together, the wardens put the bodies on the pyres. Solona lit up a torch and passed it to Alistair, who approached his brother first.

“My King, you deserve more than this, more than we can afford to grant you. But, I couldn’t leave you here like that any longer. You were a good man, who hoped too much, and died too young.”

The warrior lit the pyre and walked over to the second one. “Duncan, I will always be grateful to you. You risked a lot of trouble with the Grand Cleric to recruit me. When you made me a Grey Warden, it was the first time I felt proud of myself. If it weren’t for you, I would never… I wouldn’t have...” Alistair sucked in a ragged breath, his voice breaking and heavy with grief.

With tears in her eyes, Solona went over to stand by his side. "He knows," she said, and put her hand over his that was holding the torch.

Gently, she guided him to light the pyre and discarded the torch for him. Lacing her fingers in his, she pulled him back a few steps so they could better watch the cremation. Leia sat by Alistair’s other side and leaned her head into his free hand.

Having seen the fire from their camp, their companions slowly approached and surrounded them, watching in respectful silence as the pyres burned.

The entire time, Alistair didn’t let go of Solona’s hand, nor she of his.

 

* * *

 

That night, back together with their group at the main camp, while Solona was setting up her tent, she watched Alistair. He was by the fire cleaning King Cailan’s armor, his brows furrowed in concentration to not miss any spots.

Only two days had passed since their arrival at Ostagar, but somehow he seemed older and more tired. Their excursion at the fortress had taken a heavy toll on him.

She knelt by his side, taking Cailan’s chestpiece from him, and cupped his face so he would look at her. “Why don’t you finish this in the morning? I’ll help you. Right now you need to rest. We both do.”

He nodded, the exhaustion clear in his features.

“Come,” she said, pulling him with her as she got up.

“I just have to… I haven’t set up my tent yet. You can go ahead.”

“You don’t have to.”

He followed her gaze as she looked at her tent.

“You don’t have to be alone tonight,” she said, meeting his eyes.

“Are you sure?” There was a hopeful note to his tone and the lines that had formed on his face in the past two days softened.

“I’m sure.”

His lips curled up into a striking smile and she thought that he had never looked more handsome. At that moment, for the first time since the Battle of Ostagar, Solona felt herself a lucky woman. She had gotten stuck with the only other Grey Warden left in Ferelden and he had turned out to be a strong, loyal, decent, and incredibly attractive man.

Alistair followed her into her tent. For the duration of their journey to end the Blight, his was never unpacked again.


End file.
